


Where we Find the Lost Things

by thegreatstoryteller



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Redemption, Good Petunia Dursley, Happy Ending, Nice Petunia Dursley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11794131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatstoryteller/pseuds/thegreatstoryteller
Summary: Harry is eight years old when he comes to a startling realization, he's never seen a picture of his mother.





	Where we Find the Lost Things

Harry sat in his cupboard at Number Four Privet Drive. He could just see the sunlight shining through the front door from the slits of his door flap. Uncle Vernon was going to be at his door soon to let him out to do the chores. It was Saturday, which meant he was going to be left to do the house work while the rest of his family went to the mall, and did other various activities Harry wasn’t invited to do. 

_ That’s not very fair, but I’m eight, so what say do I have in the matter? _

He could hear Vernon bumbling around upstairs, like the graceless man he was. His heavy footsteps started at the top of the stairs and he slowly descended. A few moments later Harry’s door was ripped open and Vernon roughly pulled him out by the collar of his T-shirt. Harry shook with terror at his Uncle's obvious anger.

“We are leaving to go to the amusement park today, boy.” Harry wished to go with them in the back of his mind but knew the impossibility of it. “I’ve got a list of chores for you, and they had better be done by the time we get back.” Vernon squeezed his shoulder tightly, a message of what would happen if he wasn’t obeyed.

“Yes, Uncle Vernon.” Harry said looking down at the ground, afraid to meet his eyes. Over the next hour Petunia and Dudley joined Vernon downstairs, eating a breakfast cooked by Harry. Dudley complained that Harry burned the bacon that was perfect in reality and his eggs were to mushy. Vernon glared at Harry maliciously, a silent promise that Harry was going to have a meeting with Vernon’s belt latter. Petunia sat quietly watching the exchange between her husband and nephew. Her face twitched slightly, obviously trying to keep her composure over the exchange. She excused herself to the bathroom and once she returned they left for the amusement park.

Harry watched them pull out of the driveway and then immediately set to work. He had a mission today, and he needed to complete all of the housework before he could start it. In a matter of three hours he was finished and stood at the pull down string to the attic stairs. Harry had a brilliant idea last night when he had been secretly watching one of Dudley’s shows. Where a detective searched the attic for clues about a forgotten family member. So Harry thought, why not do the same? The attic is where you keep forgotten things, things you don't want to see, or things you don’t want others to see.

Harry pulled on the little string and the stairs popped out of the ceiling. He climbed the stairs, armed with a tiny flashlight he borrowed from Dudley's room. There were dust covered trunks lining the walls, and a crib frame leaning against the far wall.

Harry looked over the trunks. He ran his hand along an older one, clearing off the dust. Carson Dursley, was written in block letters. An ancestor of Vernon’s, that wasn’t what Harry was looking for. There were more trunks belonging to Vernon’s family. Eventually he found and old Navy blue tunk labeled Harold Evans. That was his aunt Petunia and his mother’s father. Harry smiled and unlatched the trunk. It creaked open. Harry shined the flashlight inside. There were a few small wooden boxes, and a mess of papers.

Harry glanced over a few of the papers, but they were some kind of legal document that he didn’t understand. He opened up one of the wooden boxes and found a few military medals. Harry recalled Aunt Petunia mentioning once that her father had fought in World War 2. The medals shined, having been protected in the boxes from the dust of the attic. He opened up the next box, and found what he had come up here to look for.

Pictures. The first was of two young girls, one red headed, and the other brunette. Written on the back was, Lily and Petunia: Age eight. Finally. Harry had always wanted to know what his mother looked like. Now he knew, she was beautiful. And she had red hair! The rest of the box had more photograph’s of her and of aunt Petunia. They both looked so happy. Like sister’s should.

In the next box, Harry found photo’s of his mother as a teenager. She had only gotten more beautiful as she got older. Harry felt a pull in his heart. He had always wanted his parents. But it was hard to miss them, when he didn’t know anything about them. Other than what his aunt and uncle had told them, and those were never good words. There were dozens more pictures, and a few of his mother in a strange school uniform.

_ She must have been a great student, she looks so smart. _

Harry held tightly to that picture. Underneath another box, Harry found a framed picture. His mother was standing in a long white dress, beside a man Harry immediately knew was his father. Now Harry understood the times Vernon had said that he looked like his father. There were more boxes, more forgotten mementos. Harry wanted to stay in the attic all day and find more out about his parents. But the Dursley’s would be home soon.

_ What will happen if the find me up here. _

Harry took a few of the pictures. He could hide them under the loose floorboard in his cupboard. They could be his secret. He closed up the trunk. Went back downstairs, and folded the stairs back up into the ceiling. The flashlight went back into Dudley’s room, and Harry went and sat in his cupboard. A half hour later, Harry heard a car door slam.

He could hear Dudley on the otherside complaining about how long it was taking his father to unlock the door. He finally heard the lock click and Dudley burst into the house and ran into the bathroom. Vernon walked to his open cupboard door.

“Did you finish your chores, boy.” Vernon looked a bit sunburned, Harry was going to have to find the lotion later.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now go to bed.” He pushed Harry back into the cupboard and locked it. He could hear Vernon and Dudley rummaging around in the kitchen for a late night snack, before bumbling their way up the stairs. An hour later Aunt Petunia was the only one awake. Harry could hear soft voices coming from the TV. Harry quietly pried up the floorboards and pulled out the photos of his parents. His mother was even more beautiful now, than the first time he’d seen her a few hours before. A prying question burned in his mind. Who was she? Harry knew almost nothing about hear, he needed to know. He went to his cupboard door and looked out the thin slots that gave him a limited view of the house. He could see aunt Petunia sitting in the living room. 

He knocked quietly on the door. Aunt Petunia’s head snapped over to the cupboard. She looked cross, not happy for the interruption. She stood, straightened her flowery skirt, and walked toward the slots where she could see Harry’s peering eyes.

“What do you want?” She said bending down to look better at him.

“I have a question.” She puffed up a little, angry to be missing her show because of a child’s question. “Well,” She said sharply. “What is is?”

_ Will she even answer me? What if she punishes me? I don’t care I need to know. _

Harry stood tall, and confidently. “Can you tell me about my mother?” After the question left his mouth, he coward back afraid of the backlash. He could see the surprise on her face for just a moment before she covered it up with a deep frown.

“Why would you want to know about her?” She said, brushing off his question.

“I-” Harry hesitated, looking down at his feet. “I just want to know what she was like.”

Petunia’s face fell. Did he know nothing? She thought back and couldn’t remember her ever telling Harry anything about Lily. She remembered plenty of times when Vernon had piled trash comments onto her name. Comments Harry had had to listen to. She realized with horror that all Harry knew about Lily were the nasty, spiteful words of her husband. 

This innocent little boy, who had been orphaned as a baby. Who had no memory of his parents. Who had been forced to live in a closet his whole life, and be tormented by his uncle and cousin and neglected by his aunt. And he had done nothing at all to deserve any of it. 

Harry heard the click of the latch on the cupboard door. And the creaking as Petunia pulled it open. 

“Come here.” Petunia held out her hand, and Harry’s small hand took it. She lead him into the living room and sat him down on the couch. Harry was on edge from his aunt out of character tenderness toward him. Had she mistaken him for Dudley? Petunia took a deep breath, and tried to steel her nerves. “I am sorry.” Harry’s face bunched up in confusion

“What for?”

“I am a terrible person.” She told him. “I was given a baby to take care of, my own flesh and blood, and I have treated you horribly.”

“You aren’t a bad person.” Harry said. She gave Harry food and clothes, and made sure Dudley and his gang didn't ruff him up to bad. 

“Yes. I am.” She looked away from him in disgrace. “Your mother would be ashamed of me for treating me like I have. She was my sister, my only sister, and she never did a thing wrong. She was as sweet and kind-hearted as you, if only you knew her.” Petunia was starting to sniffle, getting choked up thinking of her lost sister.

“It’s okay, I forgive you.” Harry leaned over and hugged Petunia’s chest. She hugged him back and rested her head on his. She would NEVER treat Harry like she had before. She vowed. She would raise him right, she would raise him strong, and she would accept his magic should he have it. She would not shun him the way she had her sister. 

But Vernon would never allow it.

He hated Harry. He would never stand for someone like Harry being treated anything close to an actual human being. And he would never stop hating the unexplainable. Even if he was tolerable to him now, when that letter came…..She was afraid to even think about. The realization snapped her mind into a sure decision.

She stood from the couch and went to the closet in the kitchen. She came back with two duffel bags and a small suitcase. She passed the suitcase to Harry and told him that anything that he wanted to take with him.

_ Where’s she going to make me go. I am going to live on the street! Uncle Vernon says I better behave or that’s where I’ll end up. _

“Are you making me go live somewhere else?” Harry asked terrified.

“No no, sweetheart.” Petunia said patting his hair, and hugging him for the second time that night. She took the duffels upstairs and was gone for quite a while. Harry packed his suitcase and stood by his cupboard for fifteen minutes. Then Petunia came back down, with her duffel filled, and a groggy Dudley trailing behind her. He had a duffel too. 

“Both of you stay by the door, and be quiet.” Dudley opened his mouth to refuse, but she gave him a stern look she usually only reserved for Harry and he shut his mouth. She handed Dudley her bag and went into the kitchen for a few minutes. When she came back she had a pen in one hand and the car keys clutched in the other.

“Where are we going?” Dudley asked.

“Away” It was all she said. She ushered them out the front door and into the car. She packed the bags in the trunk and looked back at the house. Petunia started the car and drove down a silent Privet Drive in a starry twilight. 

And they never came back. 


End file.
